


to see you again

by archers_and_spies



Category: Marvel
Genre: 5+1 Things, Clint gets injured a lot, F/M, Fireworks, Ice Cream, Kissing, New Years, New Years Eve, Undercover Missions, it ends kinda sad, so be warned i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:40:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22064173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/archers_and_spies/pseuds/archers_and_spies
Summary: Five times Clint kissed Natasha for New Year's Eve, and one time he couldn't.
Relationships: Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov, very very slight tony stark/pepper potts
Comments: 4
Kudos: 44





	to see you again

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> Hi everyone and happy new year! I started writing this at 10 pm on the 31st of December and tried to get it done before midnight (which is why the quality of the parts decrease as they go) and failed, so most of it was written and edited at like one in the morning. Not my best moments. Anyway I hope you enjoy this even if it doesn't make a lot of sense :)

one.

Clint’s trying not to stare, but _damn it_ , she looks way too enticing in that gold gown. Like a goddamn Disney princess, he notes, admiring the way the skirt spreads outwards from a high waistline, and the bottom of the dress looks like floating bits of clouds (not to mention the way Natasha’s red curls catch in the air as he twirls her, and the way her green eyes are sparkling in something close to enjoyment).

He’s still lost in a world of gold, golden gown, golden walls and marble floor, golden chandelier hanging from the ceiling-- when Coulson comes in through his comms.

“It’s the last fifteen seconds of the year, agents. How are we feeling?” There’s a note of amusement in his voice.

All around Clint and Natasha, the extravagantly dressed people begin a countdown starting from ten. Some of them turn to find their spouses and scramble to find a private corner, some are running around in a state of panic asking if anyone has seen their partners, and the others smile sweetly at whoever they’re dancing with currently, asking if it would be okay to--

Oh, yeah. Clint had forgotten that was a thing. It was stupid, really-- doing it for luck-- he didn’t even _believe_ in luck--

And suddenly he stops thinking, because Natasha’s lips are on his, ever so soft, and he thinks he tastes her lip gloss. He forgets that, a room away, there is a man they are assigned to ~~neutralize~~ kill. He forgets they’re on a mission and Coulson is still on both of their comms. He even forgets that he doesn’t believe in this tradition and melts into the kiss-- but two (exhilarating) seconds later, it’s over.

“Keep it in your pants, agents,” Coulson teases over the comms. Natasha smirks.

two.

He has a sprained ankle and at least two broken ribs, but that doesn’t keep him from appreciating how _beautiful_ she looks, ripped jacket and all.

“I got you ice cream,” she says as she climbs into the backseat of the car and sits down beside him. “Cashier didn’t even notice the blood on my forehead-- don’t worry, it’s not mine.”

“That’s not a very responsible thing to do, buying your partner ice cream when he’s sick,” he remarks.

“You’re injured, not sick. There’s a difference. Plus, we’ll be sharing.” She puts a spoonful of vanilla in her mouth before passing it over to him.

They eat in comfortable silence for a few minutes before she speaks again. “So, I heard somewhere that it’s New Year’s Eve tonight.”

“Is it?” He turns to look at her, and for a charged moment their breaths mingle together, and how did his hand end up on her waist, and why is she not immediately trying to put him in a chokehold because of it?

He hears fireworks in the distance. Cars honking and people cheering. A small part of his brain thinks, of _course_ Natasha would count the precise seconds just to bring it up with perfect timing, and another part of his brain goes, don’t you dare close the ~~almost non-existent~~ distance between you and her, she’s your partner, goddammit.

His heart is screaming back _I don’t care, I don’t care, I. Don’t. Care._

And so he meets her in the middle while the outside world celebrates.

Celebrates a new beginning.

three.

The celebration has already died down-- so it’s been ten, twenty minutes since midnight-- when she’s finally willing to hang up, but not before an affectionate “я скучаю по тебе, мой ястреб” and a reminder to dispose of the burner phone after they’re done.

And when her voice is gone, he takes out a grainy photograph from his wallet. He gently presses a kiss to it, smiling wistfully at Natasha’s umoving, grinning face.

_Wait for me to come home, my love._

four.

The doors to the infirmary burst open. The few nurses that are still stationed try to restrain Natasha from Clint’s bed and fail. She runs to him and cups his cheek with her hand.

“Fury didn’t tell me you were back, that son of a bitch,” she says, pushing his hair back from his forehead, eyes analysing his injuries.

“I guess I did make it back in time,” he smiles. Natasha smiles right back and kisses his lips quickly.

“I’m glad you’re okay.”

The next morning finds Natasha curled protectively around Clint’s body, sleeping soundly in the same bed. Fury takes one look at them and decides then and there that no matter how many anti-fraternisation briefings he forces them to sit through, some people are just hopeless.

five.

Clint has a particularly strong sense of deja vu when Natasha shows up in a gold dress. Their eyes meet from across the room, and in a few long strides she’s crossed over to him, looking at him like he’s the only man to ever exist, and something warm unfurls in his chest.

“Lovebirds! There you are.” Tony appears seemingly out of nowhere, with Pepper shooting them both an apologetic look. “I thought Natashalie wasn’t going to come. Of course, she would never leave you without someone to kiss. Should’ve guessed.”

Clint blushes and sputters, but Natasha merely raises an eyebrow smoothly. Tony takes the hint and goes to antagonise someone else. Pepper mouths “so sorry” before chasing after him.

This time when the countdown starts, they’re both ready and facing each other, and even though they feel the intensity of (literally) hundreds of gazes on them, the only thing they can focus on is the magical feeling of lips on lips.

How was Clint supposed to know it wasn’t going to last forever?

\+ one.

“You know what day it is?” Clint asks. “It’s New Year’s Eve, Tash. The first one since--” he breaks off. He doesn’t know how to continue. He doesn’t know, he doesn’t know.

“Well, the simple thing to say would be I miss you. But I miss you every day, so…” He trails off, playing with his fingers for a while and letting tears blur his vision.

“This is pointless. I’m pathetic.” He lets out a self-deprecating laugh. “I always used to say I wouldn’t know what to do without you, and now I know it’s true.

“I know you don’t believe in love, Tasha, but you brightened up my world in a way no one else ever did, or could.

“Happy new year, Nat.”

He leaves then, after laying a single rose on the grass before her headstone. There are celebrations in the distance, but he can’t hear them.

_I love you. I always will. And I’ll wait forever to see you again._

**Author's Note:**

> The tiny bit of Russian translates to "I miss you, my hawk."
> 
> [Find me on my other platforms here!](https://linktr.ee/karasnecklace)


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